


Demons Don't Say "Thank You"

by YacheBerries



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fileflies, Fluff, Kissing, Other, Pining, She/Her Pronouns for Dagon (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), mature just in case though, no smut just a lot of intimacy in the latter half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 19:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YacheBerries/pseuds/YacheBerries
Summary: Dagon and Beelzebub say a couple of surprising things to one another.





	Demons Don't Say "Thank You"

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the tags, I rated this as Mature because the later half does get a bit intimate, though there's nothing explicit, haha.

It’s a wonder how office work can even be considered in Hell, much less completed.

There’s the obvious, of course: Hell is a nasty, vile location; equal parts cramped, musty, dark, and incredibly uncomfortable to exist within. There were messy, unkempt offices for some of the Dukes and all of the Princes of Hell, but they were still contrasted starkly by the sterile, organized offices of Heaven that could function as actual productive work environments. The surroundings were unpleasant, but this was to be expected.... This wasHell, after all. Work, filing, and meetings still had to be done despite this.

However, the deeper intrigue to all of this were the demons themselves. Demons are an unruly bunch, and every denizen of Hell, from the most lowly tempter to Satan himself, were oozing with sin, deceit, and cunning. One of the many marks of a demon is to be untrustworthy, and also to not trust others. If this was the case, as well as the inante, deadly sin of sloth, then how was office work even “completed”? How could working relationships develop? How could anything productive occur in any capacity?

One of the Universe’s many mysteries, it seems. However, outliers mustn't be disregarded.

* * *

Sifting through a pile of papers, detailing a never-ending list of names of souls currently being tormented, Dagon couldn’t help but carefully glance above the thin sheets she held every so often. Reviewing and proofreading for hours on end was quite monotonous, but being able to settle her eyes upon Lord Beelzebub, if even for a few moments, reminded her as to why she continued to subject herself to such tasks.

Beelzebub’s office was probably the most well kept in all of Hell, though, being the permanent habitat for a huge swarm of flies, that obviously wasn’t saying much. However, the documents Beelzebub had acquired over the centuries were relatively organized within their desk and the various cabinets scattered throughout their dark office, in no small-part thanks to the fact that the Lord of the Files herself was a direct underling to Beelzebub.

A direct, devoted underling, bound to Beelzebub’s side contractually, though you wouldn’t be wrong for assuming it was by choice.

Dagon shifted her position a bit and placed their elbow on the torn armrest of her ratty office chair, chin in her palm, lists still in front of her yet lowered a bit in her peripheral vision for feigned skimming. She fixed her actual gaze on Beelzebub, who was currently sitting on the huge, mangled throne at their desk, buried deep within stacks of decaying papers. Sometimes the little things, like how Beelzebub idly brushed strands of stringy hair out of their face, the way their face would soften at spotting a fly crawling upon the paper they were reading, or the way they would sometimes give a breathy sigh after the completion of reviewing a stack of papers, would involuntarily make the corners of Dagon’s lips quirk up in a fond smile. These were tender, cherished moments to Dagon; Beelzebub was usually quite loud and domineering in order to intimidate their underlings into obeying orders, and only behind their closed office door were they allowed to relax for a little bit… reviewing mountains of paperwork, yes, but still in a much less volatile environment. And Dagon was the only demon to regularly see this side of them.

Centuries of denial behind her, and may Satan forever damn her for such an insinuation, but Dagon _ loved _ Beelzebub, plain and simple. She loved serving Beelzebub, assisting with their work, organizing their things, and catching those glimpses of gentleness which spread a grossly comfortable warmth through every nerve in her body and caused the scales at the back of her neck to bristle. These feelings had to stay hidden, of course; a demon _ should not _ be pleased with any subordinate positions, after all, Falling was due to rebellion. A demon should also _ not _ be capable of love. Lust was fine in the context of temptation, but “love” was Heaven’s territory. However, Dagon knew that acceptance of her feelings was inevitable, lest said conflicting feelings hinder her performance in Beelzebub’s eyes, so she had instead learned to suppress them into what would appear to be blind devotion to the other demons. Not that Dagon’s devotion to Beelzebub was in any way fake, of course.

So, there Dagon continued to sit, under the guise of reading the stacks of lists piled at her feet, while in reality, gazing with a dreamy expression directed at her boss. Her stunning, powerful boss, capable of summoning a violent swarm of flies to discoporate an unlucky demon or angel in an instant. Her stunning, powerful boss, whose raised voice could be heard from rooms away, barking orders that whipped demons into shape in no time flat. Her stunning, powerful boss, who Dagon had no trouble believing could figuratively sweep her off her feet, suddenly clutching at the ruffled, tattered fabric around her neck, dragging her scaly, flushed face down to eye level in order to roughly press their open mouth to hers -

“Dagon?”

Snapping to attention, Dagon hadn’t even realized how much she had been sinking into the armrest of her chair until Beelzebub’s face came into focus with an expression of confusion amidst their usual disinterest. Several flies had woken up from the sudden spoken word after hours of silence, and were now buzzing around their head in frazzled patterns.

Dagon sat up in a start, straightening her uniform out and keeping her cool while internally cursing herself for looking utterly ridiculous in front of Beelzebub; half-lidded eyes, a goofy little smile, cheeks potentially dusted with pink, and her chin settled in her palm, all directed at _ them _. “I apologize, sir, I got a bit distracted from my work for a few moments after something… crossed my mind. It won’t happen again.”

Despite keeping a blank face, Dagon could tell several emotions and potential reactions crossed through her boss’ mind. Serving Beelzebub for millennia clued her in on _ all _ of the seemingly small things - the twitch of an eye, the flexing of fingers, the change in behavior of the flies swarming them - they all _ meant _ something, especially on someone as stoic as Beelzebub.

Haphazardly tossing some crumpled paper into a waste bin (funnily enough, Beelzebub’s office was probably the only one in Hell _ with _ waste bins), Beelzebub sighed. “Underzztandable, Dagon, today hazz been quite a dull day, all thingzz conzzidered.”

Beelzebub’s validation made Dagon shiver a bit with delight, as if she had just been smothered with praise despite no words of that nature being said. As not to draw attention to her trembling self (though, at the very least, the scales covering her cheeks and the relative darkness of the room made any blush less noticeable), Dagon dashed over to a cabinet in order to place the lists in a binder with her back to Beelzebub, smiling a bit to herself. “Do you require any immediate help with the papers on your desk, sir?”

Beelzebub was quiet for a few moments, and Dagon figured that the Lord of the Flies was currently scowling at the mass of papers on their desk. Despite no words being said, Dagon could sense the exhaustion her boss was feeling, less from the physical work and more from the grim reminder that it would be never-ending for eternity.

Finally Beelzebub spoke. “Dagon, over here.”

With a bit of a spring in her step, Dagon stode over to the front of Beelzebub’s desk and stood before it, posed and expectant. The only thing that leveled with the satisfaction felt from Beelzebub's concealed praise was being directly instructed by them, as it gave Dagon a feeling of fulfillment and pride, serving their Lord with such vigor.

Beelzebub lazily gestured to several of the stacks of paper on their desk as they spoke. “I’ll need you to take care of thezze Dagon. Some are null and void, and muzzt be discarded, this zztack here needzz to be filed in the back, and this file here needzz to be taken to Hazztur immediately, azz it conzzerns a group of humanzz he should be hanging around.”

Dagon nodded intently and reached out to take the file meant for Hastur. “Alright, sir, I will deliver this to Duke Hastur at once, and I will be back in a few moments to tend to the rest.”

The flies surrounding Beelzebub began to gradually settle, resting on their hair and shoulders, catching Dagon’s attention a bit. Before Dagon could fully lift the file, a hand shot out from under the desk and came down upon her left hand. It took everything in Dagon’s power not to flinch from the sudden contact with Beelzebub’s warm palm, pinning her hand down, though she still trembled a bit. Beelzebub looked as stoic as ever, but Dagon could tell there was a bit more softness to their expression; their eyes weren’t narrowed, and the flies were calm.

“Thank you, Dagon.” There was venom in their voice, as if saying those words came with a fair amount of bile in their throat. If Dagon didn’t know any better, Beelzebub may have been suppressing a tired smile.

Dagon didn’t even try to hide her own smile; a small one, granted, but with fangs bared in pleasant delight. “Thank _ you _, sir.”

The moment Beelzebub lifted their hand, Dagon clutched the file and dashed out the door, closing it behind her. Once she was sure the door was secure, and that there were no demons potentially slithering down the hallway, she leaned back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position in utter bliss, staring at the hand Beelzebub had touched. The Lord of the Files had never felt so warm in her whole life, and she continued to tremble with giddiness, as hearing those three simple words felt like a landslide of longing had finally tumbled out of her chest.

Dagon pressed the back of her hand to her lips and sighed softly. She didn’t even care that her feelings and actions were _ very _ un-demon like; she loved Beelzebub, and gave up caring about what that meant for her centuries ago.

* * *

Demons are nasty, vile, and rude creatures, so they certainly don’t say “thank you” to anyone.

However, two demons saying “thank you” to each other? 

It probably cancels out.

* * *

Beelzebub’s personal office chair was something they didn’t think _ too _ fondly of.

It was more of a throne; royal and intimidating like the office’s main occupant, yes, but its size was an inconvenience if anything, especially considering Beelzebub’s relatively small size, and its lack of swivel wheels made the novelty of them quite desirable.

However, it made for the _ perfect _location to straddle Dagon’s hips with their legs, pinning the demon down in a compromising position while kissing every individual gasp out of her.

Beelzebub had been making out with Dagon for quite some time… hours, maybe? Beelzebub wasn’t keeping track, nor did they care. 

Things started out simple enough, with Dagon leaning down over Beelzebub’s chair, showing them a recent report she had received near the “end” of their work day. While the Prince of Hell loved to hear the sweet sound of their lovely Dagon’s voice, they were getting quite bored of subjecting their senses to yet _ another _ report regarding a demon’s successful temptation and the punishment the tempted soul would have to endure. They instead gazed up at Dagon, admiring the way the dim light of their office reflected off Dagon’s shimmering, silver scales, how her eyes were wide and bright with excitement, and how she used one hand to hold the report, while using her other hand to gesticulate her commentary. When Dagon had noticed their unbroken gaze, and subsequently questioned it with a cute blush hidden under those beautiful scales, all restraint within Beelzebub ceased to exist within an instant and they stood up in order to twist their hands into Dagon’s ruffled neck accessory, pulling her towards them for a passionate kiss. One thing led to another, and amidst the sloppy meeting of tongues, Dagon eventually found herself pushed upon Beelzebub’s large office chair, which provided ample room for the lithe Prince of Hell to climb on top of her. Several of the flies within the room kept their distance from the demonic lovers, perched upon the various cabinets, as they knew their master needed a bit of privacy.

There were many things Beelzebub loved about kissing Dagon, as underneath the standard, demonic, lustful tendencies, there was a passionate origin for every action. Unlike mortal beings, there was no need for the demons to pause for breathing, allowing Beelzebub to truly savor every little sensation, be it feeling a shudder that coursed through Dagon’s body, or the way Dagon’s sharp teeth felt when they grazed over their lips and tongue; it felt _ sinful _ , but it also felt _ perfect _. Existing in Hell filled its residents with emptiness, so the pleasurable feeling of emboldened passion was something Beelzebub never wanted to stop.

As they kissed, Beelzebub had torn Dagon’s neckpiece off, as well as her unfiorm coat, and was now working on the holder that kept her hair back in a ponytail. At the snap of fingers, everything could be gone in an instant, but the Lord of the Flies learned after _ many _ passionate exchanges with their Dagon that the steady removal of clothing was much more gratifying. Beelzebub pulled away from their kiss just to see Dagon’s hair become undone; they pulled away the hair tie and watched eagerly as her lovely, messy, red-orange hair fell over her shoulders and down her back.

“_ Mmmzz _… beautiful, Dagon,” They murmured, gazing at Dagon with the clashing feelings of longing and satisfaction. They threw off their sash and their own suit coat in haste, not minding if something got torn, leaving both of them merely in their button-up dress shirts and pants.

Dagon, skin becoming more flushed by the second, was trembling quite a bit in anticipation, and Beelzebub, God smite them a second time and Satan damn them forever, _ loved _ it. They _ loved _ Dagon. They gently brought a hand up to cup Dagon’s cheek, stroking at the smooth scales for a bit before running their thumb over the crease of her lips in order to gently pry them open and lovingly rub one of Dagon’s signature sharp canines. Leaning in a bit to speak in her ear, Beelzebub continued to buzz softly. “You’re zzo beautiful, my dear Dagon, far too beautiful for Hell. Pleazzze... zzink thozze pretty little teeth of yourzz in me, I need you.”

When Beelzebub got only a whimper in response at first, they chuckled and nuzzled Dagon’s ear with their nose, kissing down her jaw a bit and nibbling at where scales met skin on her neck. Many demons in Hell, if not all, were monstrous in their ugliness, covered in boils, festering skin patches, and scars, and Beelzebub’s infernal form was not exempt from this. However, Dagon was like a diamond in the rough; with her tattered and dark clothes off, her smooth, exposed body was covered in those beautiful, silver scales, and Beelzebub could swear that they were not looking at a Fallen angel, but an authentic one. Far too beautiful for Hell indeed.

Dagon’s whimpers were steadily becoming more needy, as Beelzebub knew how sensitive she was around the areas of her body where scales lay upon her soft skin. Pulling the hand away from her face, Beelzebub settled both of their hands on Dagon’s waistline, sneaking them under her shirt in order to caress the scaly area bordering her stomach. Beelzebub applied a bit of pressure as their fingernails raked over the taut skin of her belly and its scales, causing Dagon to gasp out _ so _many different noises that Beelzebub wanted to bottle up and listen to forever.

After another gentle bite to her neck, Dagon managed to speak. “S..sir…”

Beelzebub chuckled against Dagon’s skin with a few buzzes interspersed in between before pulling away, though they continued to rub massaging circles over her stomach. “My dear Dagon, you muzztn’t call me by zzuch official names outzzide of offizze hourzz.”

“W..well, we are technically still _ in _ the office… sir,” Dagon swallowed thickly, but managed a little smile after wetting her lips with the flick of a tongue. “Besides, I’ve known you long enough to know that you, in fact, _ love _being called official names~”

Desire coiled within Beelzebub, as they became hyper-aware of every little action their fellow demon made. Pulling their hands out from under Dagon’s shirt, they cupped her flushed cheeks and kissed her, passion and need melding together similar to how their lips did.

“Damn it… Dagon, _I fucking love you!_” Beelzebub growled, eyes narrowed, after pulling away a few millimeters from Dagon’s breathless mouth.

Dagon lifted her hand, her left hand, and placed it on Beelzebub’s marred cheek. Beelzebub couldn’t help but lean into it, eyes falling shut.

“I love you, too, sir… Beelzebub.”

* * *

Demons are nasty, vile, and rude creatures, so they certainly don’t say “I love you” to anyone.

However, two demons saying “I love you” to each other? 

It most definitely cancels out.

**Author's Note:**

> Heck... first posted Good Omens fic, I hope this was alright!! (...I say first because I have an shitposty IB fic that I've been working on for a couple weeks that I hope to finish soon...)  
I always headcanon Beelzebub as a bit more open to Dagon the closer they become past their working relationship, which is why I wrote them so passionate in the second half... I also heckin' l o v e Beelzebub and Dagon and I'm lesbiab and fish pretty so *shrugs*.  
I'm thinking about maybe writing a second version to this with Beelzebub's PoV during the first half instead and Dagon's during the second... hmm...


End file.
